


something borrowed

by amsves



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Drabble, Emperor Lelouch-era, Fluff, Gen, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 18:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10859970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amsves/pseuds/amsves
Summary: This day couldn’t get any worse.Or, why C.C. is the worst room-mate ever.





	something borrowed

**Author's Note:**

> A non-song-lyric title? What?
> 
> Suggested listening for this fic is any song that makes you feel warm and fuzzy 

Lelouch sighed as he steadied himself against the doorframe. It had been a long day. His eyes blurred with exhaustion as he keyed in the password to his room, more thanks to muscle memory than any higher brain function. He exhaled, and the door slid open seamlessly, revealing the not-quite-comforting sight of his room in the palace. Using the Emperor’s Suite still felt wrong. He’d had the whole place gutted and re-done, but he could still feel his father’s eyes glaring at him from every corner, every shadow. Lelouch doubted he’d ever feel truly alone here.

He chuckled to himself. Of course he wouldn’t; C.C. insisted on sharing his quarters, claiming that he had the most comfortable bed, and that “I’m your accomplice, aren’t I? What if we need to conspire in the middle of the night? I can’t be seen sneaking into your room at night.” 

Lelouch had argued that her sneaking into his room at any hour of the day was suspicious enough, but he’d let the issue drop.

For once, he let the clothes fall as they may on his floor as he disrobed. He was too tired to care, and besides, it wasn’t like C.C. didn’t already leave hers everywhere. The room was certainly no worse for wear because of his robes. The crown, however, he rested carefully on its form. He had dozens of robes, but only one crown; to have it appear wrinkled, crushed, or sullied would be imprudent.

C.C. was already in bed, clutching her Cheese-kun to her chest in her sleep. She shifted as he climbed into bed beside her, but didn’t stir. Lelouch suppressed a sigh of half-amusement, half-annoyance; as expected, she’d stolen all the covers and wrapped herself in a cocoon of sorts. A few tugs displaced enough sheet him, and Lelouch finally settled into the deep, dreamless sleep he’d been needing.

In the morning, which came far too early, Lelouch blinked his sticky eyes open as sunlight struck his face. He rubbed at his eyes with his hand in an attempt to wake himself enough to read the time of his clock. The rubbing didn’t do the trick, but the time itself certainly did: it was well past noon and approaching one in the afternoon.

Lelouch practically threw himself out of bed, and landed on the floor in an ungraceful heap. He looked back at the bed to see that he’d caught his foot in the blankets. Grumbling, he kicked his foot free, fretting all the while. Why hadn’t his alarm gone off? He’d missed several appointments already!

Finally, he made his way to his closet, and his already bad mood plummeted. In his sleep-deprived haze he could’ve sworn there was a fresh set of robes for today, but only plainclothes and special ceremony garb greeted him. He cursed, and moved to retrieve yesterday’s robes from the floor, only to come up short. The maid must have come in while he’d been sleeping and collected it for the laundry.

This day couldn’t get any worse.

Lelouch resigned himself to a day of house-arrest. Maybe he’d tell the staff he was sick or something to excuse his absence. He could use a chance to catch up on his sleep, and this could be the chance he needed to get ahead on paperwork. Completely reworking Britannian culture required quite a lot of paperwork, after all.

On the other hand, dissenters might take news of his poor health as an opportunity for assassination. He really didn’t want to experience his first death until he absolutely had to, for the sake of authenticity.

Still in his pajamas, Lelouch opened the door to his lounge. His jaw hit the floor. “C.C. … please return my robes.”

“Why do you get to wear the comfy robes while I have to wear that impractical dress?” C.C. countered, wiping the pizza grease from her delicate hands on the silky fabric. “This is much more comfortable, anyway. I’ve always preferred pants, ever since women started wearing them.”

“Just give me my robes.”

“Why can’t they be my robes? You try wearing that dress you made for me and see how you like it.”

“Firstly, no, I’m not wearing your dress. I told you, I’m never dressing as a woman ever again. Not since,” he shuddered, “not since that time in the Chinese Federation. And secondly, I’ll get you something else to wear, but I _need_ those now!” Lelouch lunged for C.C., who danced gracefully out of his reach, a smile on her lips.

“Not so fast, dearest accomplice. How do I know you’ll keep your promise? You have a history of breaking those, you know.” She took another slice of pizza.

She said it so casually, but Lelouch winced anyways. He knew he was a liar through and through, but it was for the greater good. Having it thrown back in his face hurt.

He managed a half-smile and shrugged. “I promised I’d make you happy, didn’t I?”

C.C. considered him for a moment, and then set her pizza on the coffee table ( _without_ a coaster or plate; Lelouch shuddered again). “Fine. But I expect that alternative wardrobe by the end of the week.”

“ _Wardrobe_?” Lelouch echoed dumbly. “I never agreed to …” he trailed off. “C.C.!” 

“ _What_?” she asked, arms raised over her head.

“I didn’t mean to start stripping in the middle of the lounge!”

“So fussy,” she tsked, passing him by on her way to the bedroom. “I’ll be right back, Your Majesty. Oh, and you might not want to shout so loud when you say such suggestive things,” she added with a smirk. “I’m sure your staff are very discreet, but you’re the one always worrying about decorum.”

Lelouch blushed as red as the jewels on his (C.C.’s) robes as his accomplice skipped off to their bedroom.

“Oh, by the way,” she called over her shoulder, “I’m the one who disabled your alarm, too." 

Lelouch slapped his head. “Why would you do that?”

“You weren’t waking up, and the sound was annoying me,” she explained matter-of-factly. “And, besides, you looked like you could use the rest.”

“Just hurry up and change, you stupid witch,” he sighed, plopping down onto the sofa. “I can still make some of my appointments in the evening.”

“Promise you won’t eat my pizza while I’m gone?”

“You’ll be lucky if there’s any left for you. You made me miss breakfast _and_ lunch. I’m starving.” Lelouch selected a greasy, cheesy slice and chewed it slowly.

“Well, maybe I just won’t give you your clothes back, then,” she reasoned from the next room over. “Maybe I’ll toss them out the window.”

“Do it and Cheese-kun follows.”  
  
C.C. gasped in indignation, and Lelouch smiled to himself as he finished his slice.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever just need C.C./Lelouch fluff in your life
> 
> scream with me at [my tumblr](http://senpai-san.tumblr.com/)


End file.
